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Burdens Unexpressed: Silver-Hairs vs the God Flame
Absolute whiteness surrounded the silver-haired man known as Seireitou, standing up straight as his soft gaze extended outwards onto the vastness; though not without a sense of slight confusion mixed with a strange sense of unjustified anticipation, tinged with some small degree of... was this excitement? Why? There should be no reason for this feeling at all, this is no different than all the other times Seireitou had visited the inner depths of his soul, searching for peace and spiritual solitude for self-assessment. But the reason soon appeared. There, in the distance, stood a familiar figure to Seireitou. An elder man with a magnificent flowing white beard, adorned with a matching white coat and the character for "one" etched onto its back, returned the gaze as well. This man was undoubtedly the same one that took Seireitou from his mentor all those years ago, with a method that could best be described as blackmail, and the one that the soul reapers call their general. Shigekuni Yamamoto, the "Genryūsai". A title that reflected the vast depths of skill and power this man possesses, similar in principle to Seireitou's own war-earned title "Shiroyasha". "Yama-jii... But why?" Seireitou called out softly. The old Shinigami general kept his eyes at their usually half-opened state, but the strength of their sight was not to be mistaken, even in this position. "You should know the answer to that, boy. For someone to appear in another's soul in such a manner can only mean there is something deep down in this soul of yours that persists my existence, despite the fact that I have already passed on." he explained, raising his wooden walking stick and slamming the bottom edge onto the ground, producing a thunderous sound. "The Sōkyoku, which was born from Ryūjin Jakka, carries a small piece of my soul. I left behind three significant pieces of it, to three individuals, and the blade which carries its destructive force was left to you. But even so, boy, for me to appear in such a manner... What is it that persists?" Seireitou kept quiet, his gaze fixated on the wizened Yamamoto. "Is it still anger and hatred from back then? When I ripped you away from your beloved teacher, Shōyō?" he continued asking. Again, Seireitou remained silent. "Regret? Do you regret something because of my passing, foolish boy?" the old man questioned further. But once more, Seireitou did not respond. With this, Yamamoto shut his eyes for a brief moment, before re-opening them. A faint hue of what appeared to be an intense fire, hidden behind these misleadingly peaceful eyes, was evident. And with it, a glow of spiritual energy aligned to the element of fire began to form around the Shinigami general. "Warriors need not talk with words! If you have something that needs to be expressed, then let it be done so with our blades!" Yamamoto bellowed, the flames that composed his reiatsu exploded outwards, as the walking stick he was wielding shed its flimsy wooden exterior and revealed the truth: the strongest and most powerful Zanpakutō in all of Soul Society's history, Ryūjin Jakka, now took the stage. Seireitou, at the sight of this, could not help but crack a small smile. "So we're skipping the warm-up then, Yama-jii? I suppose, since we're aware of one another's stature, it would be a meaningless gesture." Placing his right hand along the hilt of his sword, Seireitou drew his own Zanpakutō with a swift motion: the fearsome Hanullim. And with it, an equally impressive burst of white spiritual energy erupted from the silver-haired man's body, rivaling the release of Yamamoto's own reiatsu. A collision of grand proportions was now to begin. Battle of Strong Souls With a dash of great speed, Yamamoto was the first to act. Like a roaring flame that consumed all in its path, the mighty former Captain-Commander thrust his blade with a precise strike, slamming into Seireitou's own blade as the latter parried. With their close proximity, their reiatsu auras began to struggle against one another, smothering each other repeatedly with no clear winner. "Taimatsu!" Yamamoto bellowed in his elderly voice, an inferno erupted from the edge of the Ryūjin Jakka, smashing into the silver-haired man due to the close range. But it did not manage to penetrate his defenses. Seireitou held the Kaerikotsu, a defensive Hakuda technique of his own creation, designed to reverberate assaults on his person and render them useless. But the force of the attack managed to push him back enough to break the deadlock, prompting Seireitou to maintain a defensive position. A swing of Yamamoto's blade followed, releasing a wave of flames which flew toward Seireitou at break-neck speeds. Seireitou responded with precise slash of his sword, cutting through the heat wave with nary an effort. "I thought we were skipping the warm-up!" he roared, using a flash step to close the gap once more. But this time, a rapid exchange of sword strikes commenced. The speed was impressive, the sound of metal clashing was consistently ringing in the air, white and orange sparks flying as if they were exchanging blows with their spiritual pressure just as aggressively as their blades. But Yamamoto, once more, chose to end this exchange, leaping high up into the air above him. In doing so, he swung downwards with his Zanpakutō. "Taimatsu — Ameka!" From the single tip of his blade's edge, several thousand projectiles of fire erupted simultaneously, falling downward in a rain of flame with the intent of smothering Seireitou with an inescapable technique. As the flames began falling onto Seireitou's body, ember by ember, the silver-haired shut his eyes and attempted to regain composure. Just as the fire made contact, he shouted out loud. "Shun... kō!" A bright white light sprung forth from Seireitou's body, enveloping him as it diminished the flames as they approached his being, as if they were nothing but candlelight. He regained his footing, the brilliant white light surrounding his body, as he gazed upwards toward Yamamoto. The elder Captain stared down with a tinge of surprise, though one could hardly call this an unexpected development. "Shunkō, the technique that is achieved through the highest echelon of Hakuda. But it's completely different from Shihōin Yoruichi or Suì-Fēng." he noted, using a flash step to return to the ground below, although a considerable distance away from the silver-haired man. Seireitou nodded in agreement. "When they use it, the Kidō explodes from their shoulders and cycles around their bodies. But this is because the martial arts employed by the Shinigami has been reduced to that kind of hard-type style. A person that has studied only that kind of Hakuda would surely only be able to produce a Shunkō of that nature." he continued on from Yamamoto's mention. With that, Yamamoto rose one of his eyebrows in a short bout of interest. "Is that to say, boy, that the Hakuda art is flawed?" Seireitou shook his head. "No. Hakuda itself refers to all martial arts. It was called by that name, "white hits", for that very reason. What I am saying, however... is that the interpretation of Hakuda you forced upon the Shinigami in that academy of yours is foolishly blind and incomplete." he responded with a stern expression. "Naive boy!" Yamamoto bellowed, an intense aura of fire once more surrounded his person. "I said before... warriors talk with their blades!" he answered. Seireitou narrowed his eyes and held up his blade. "Sorry, but I prefer fists. It's more... fitting this way." The blade of Hanullim emitted a bright golden light, and with it, a pillar of spiritual energy erupted from his being as the center. The Zanpakutō was now changing form, losing its sword-like state as it wrapped around Seireitou's arms and legs, forming a dual pair of tekkō arm protectors that fit comfortably. As the pillar of energy began to erode, the tekkō would shine with a great power, matching the passion of Yamamoto's released Ryūjin Jakka. The Precipice Surrounding the elder, several minuscule lengths of fire began to snap and lash around wildly, slowly assuming a shape of consistency that resembled katana blades. A pattern of flame blades, as if they were soldiers awaiting the command of their general, took their position in a circular pattern around Yamamoto. In response, Seireitou stood at the ready, his tekkō-covered arms were held up to show a martial arts fighting stance. White spiritual energy flooded the space around Seireitou, almost as though it was like water smothering his being. The Shunkō he had activated earlier was still in full force, but now seemed to have changed natures from earlier; a smooth flowing aura that hid something quite dangerous in its depths. "Hyaah!" bellowed the old general, unleashing a wave of flames from the aura he generated; a literal tidal wave of fire seeking to erase anything in its path. But to a seasoned warrior like Seireitou, that saw just as much aggressive combat as Yamamoto, he remained calm and cool. He held up his hand, his palm aimed directly at the wall of incoming flames, as his concentration was centered onto his enemy. The fire snapped and behaved violently, as its form was quickly shattered apart, swirling around viciously around Seireitou's body as though it now served a new master. This was Hōkōryū, one of Seireitou's most magnificent martial arts to witness while subsequently being one of the most difficult to utilize, which allowed him to impose his will onto sources of energy around him and therefore project a sort of empty force which would then give Seireitou the capability of paving a path for the particulate energy to follow. The flames snapped wildly around Seireitou's body, slowly taking the form of a rib cage-like structure around him. But Yamamoto remained considerably at ease in regards to this development. It was then that something odd then happened, the flames began to once more behave violently as they immediately broke the rib cage hold and formed a medley of katana blades, similar to those found around Yamamoto's body from before, moving in to attack Seireitou from all sides. But the shrewd and fast-acting Shiroyasha managed to escape the range of the attack, avoiding significant damage as his eyes widened at the change of pace. "Wondering what went wrong?" Yamamoto would ask, drawing Seireitou's attention toward the ablaze elder. "Those that have reached the domain have attained an entirely new precipice of skill that transcends normal power. And the Shinigami that manage to reach this level demonstrate this through their Zanpakutō. The powers of the sword reflect this transcendent skill in a way unique to its master." he explained. Seireitou scoffed. "I'm aware of that, old man. I don't need a lecture on something like that." he abruptly answered. "Boy, halt your tongue! If you were aware of that, you would not have attempted something so foolish!" he roared back. "These flames forged by Ryūjin Jakka exist as my blades, they are an extension of me; a part of me! I am a Grandmaster of Zanjutsu, just as you are of Hakuda, and blades are my strength; my soul. Anything can serve as my sword. They might as well be in my hands when I unleash them upon you." he further stated, readying his sword for yet another assault. Yamamoto swung his blade once more, a torrent of flames erupted from the sword edge just as before, rushing in to annihilate the silver-haired man. Once more, Seireitou attempted to use Hōkōryū to take control, but all he managed to do was divert their paths just enough to avoid being struck. "You can't take my sword from me, no matter hard you try, foolish boy!" Following through, Yamamoto jumped up high and once more sent off a mighty wave of fire, aiming to crush the fleeing Shiroyasha. But suddenly, a pummeling of translucent rays emanating from Seireitou's person were unleashed, striking at the fire and settling the embers long enough to diminish their threat. Seireitou took a quickened flash step backwards, garnering some distance. "Hōkōryū will only provide me with a temporary fix. And Muken may help to keep the flames at bay long enough to escape. But at this rate, I can't get in close enough to deal a serious blow. Long-range attacks will just be rendered moot against those flames..." he thought, while dodging yet another assault of fire which he avoided by a subtle use of both Muken and Hōkōryū; two of the empty force martial arts he so fondly employed in battles. Invoking Hanullim's Power